Punishment in Pink
by AlwaysHatedEssays
Summary: The Saiyan prince is lured into accompanying his woman on a horrifying shopping expedition. V/B


**A/N**- Prequel to 'Bra Shopping'. There's some citrus-y content in subtext and an abundance of shameless dirty talk.

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><p>Punishment in Pink<p>

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><p>Vegeta stormed through his home, muttering a tirade of foul curses as he quickly bustled his way into the living room. "The answer is NO, you heathen! I absolutely refuse to go!"<p>

Having persistently stalked him around the entire compound for five minutes, Bulma followed behind the irate Saiyan. "C'mon, it'll only be for a little bit," she pleaded with that saccharine tongue of hers.

He wouldn't fall for _that_ trick, not this time. He knew all too well that she spoke extra-sweetly only when she _really_ wanted something from him. Especially when it was something that crossed the boundary of what he was comfortable with doing, required his utmost leniency and tolerance, and would be guaranteed to greatly humiliate him in the process.

Anything that demanded him to be complaisant to evade his wife's wrath was pure torture, and though he gave in ninety-nine percent of the time, he always resisted before he inevitably caved.

Bulma caught up to him and tread up the stairs at his side. "We'll be home before you know it!"

"I told you, _no_," he snarled as they made it into the hallway.

He stopped when she managed to cut him off and corner him. She fluttered her eyelashes and mewled, "Pretty please?"

With a monstrous roar he repeated, "NO!"

"VEGETA!"

Shit. _That_ tone.

Bulma noticed his muscles tense up. She knew she had him right where she wanted. "It was _your_ fault, you know, and you owe me big time. May as well pay your debt now by coming with me."

Stiffly he turned to face her, blaring, "Wrong. You're the one at fault here."

"Huh, funny, I don't remember ripping my own bra to shreds in a passionate fury. _You_ tore my bra apart because you just couldn't be patient! 'Sex now, woman!'"

"I didn't say_ that_," Vegeta growled, remembering what had happened the night before during foreplay, when he had become flustered and viciously tore the bra off her. She hadn't mentioned it until this morning, but he knew she would want to get a new bra to replace the one he had ruined, even though she already had an entire closet filled with perfectly decent lingerie.

She was quite particular about the bra he had torn apart, always going on about how it was her favorite and a perfect fit. And now that he had destroyed it, she expected it to be replaced immediately. And he had no choice but to go along for the sickening ride.

He still had some fight left in him, though, for he did not want to do something so degrading as accompanying her to a horrid female undergarment shop. "Look, it was _your_ fault for wearing that frilly pink monstrosity and enticing me. If you weren't so lewd-"

"You're calling _me_ lewd?" she harrumphed, "Says the guy who wouldn't keep his hands off my ass when Yamcha visited last week!"

"I simply wanted to remind him of what he lost, and what _I_ gained," Vegeta smirked. He wasn't opposed to Yamcha hanging around the compound, but whenever Bulma's ex visited, the Saiyan eagerly went out of his way to cop a feel in front of the scarred desert bandit.

Bulma went on, "And let's not forget what happened last Christmas when, in front of my parents _and_ Trunks, you-"

He interceded, "Alright! I get it!" He didn't want to remember that horrible Christmas, when Bulma had given him too much to drink. He had done many embarrassing things in front of his family, acting out on drunken impulse. He vowed to never drink again after that.

Bulma cleared her throat, breaking her husband out of his Vietnam-esque flashback. "Well, anyway, the fact of the matter remains. You ruined my lingerie, and _we_ need to replace it."

"Replace it yourself, you relentlessly persistent harpy."

"No. You're coming with me, princess."

He sorely bit out, "I don't see why you need me to accompany you when you're very capable of going there on your own. There is no purpose gained in bringing me along, just to observe as you pick out some stupid undergarments!"

"Oh, I know you would enjoy it later," she husked, closing the distance between them and looking at him through half-lidded eyes, "You'll savor the memory of me picking out bras and panties and use it as vivid imagery when you go for a solo session... on the COUCH. Because that's where you'll be sleeping tonight if you don't go with me THIS INSTANT!"

He backed up a little, the shock clear on his face. At that moment, he feared for his life.

His sex life, that is.

"You... _Bulma_..." he interjected, sputtering, "I don't require it as frequently as you do. I don't _need_ it tonight."

But he was aware that his own sexual appetite was just as great as hers, if not greater, and though he could live through one night of not getting any, he would grow restless for it.

Still, he liked keeping her guessing about how much he craved their habitual trysts. He threw his head back and snorted carelessly, "With your obsessive dependence on me, I know you'll come begging me to curl up with you after I've finished drilling into your body." Savagely he leered at her, "And you know I'll show no mercy. I won't even fall asleep in the same bed as you when I'm done."

He closed the distance between them once again, and he added in an attempt to be extra cruel, "And I won't kiss that foul mouth of yours, not even once."

She remained undeterred by his threats. She had heard them many times before, and he never followed through with them. "I think I can manage to survive one night without doing you." She leaned forward until she was inches away from his mouth, and she dared him to move closer with an extra snippy remark, "But I could go for _weeks_ without a kiss from a stinky little prince."

Knowing he was losing the battle, Vegeta leaned back against the wall with his arms folded, throwing her a cocky smirk. "Hah! As if! You're going to come to me on the sofa in the middle of the night, whining for relief. I'll expect an apology from you then," he eyed her up and down, adding for good measure, "In the form of an agonizingly slow strip-tease. Perhaps then I'll be merciful and relieve you."

Disappointed that he hadn't taken her invitation to kiss her, as she had been hoping, Bulma pouted. "So then, are you going with me?"

He didn't really have a choice. His stubbornness at this issue was not worth giving up one night of sex. And knowing his wife's vengeful ways all too well, he knew she would probably hold that against him and abstain for not just one night, but an entire week. She was perfectly capable of holding out for that long. She was a master of using sex as a weapon against him, and she would surely want to teach him a lesson, so the next time she wanted to drag him along on a maddening shopping spree he would be much more compliant.

With a defeated sigh, he surrendered to her. "As long as you don't intend to partake in any window shopping or plan to spend seven hours trying on appalling clothes, then _maybe_-"

"Oh, you're _so_ sweet. I knew you'd go with me!" She was pleased with herself for how easy it was to persuade him (although it was more along the lines of _threatening_ him).

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer to her, ignoring his disapproving frown. "Just for that, I'll let you have a quickie before we leave," she whispered against his neck, and her hands found their way down to his ass.

"Not _now_, moron," he protested feebly, trying not to show too much interest in her touch, which he was rather enjoying a lot.

Then as her hands wandered to the front of his pants, he lurched away from her, snapping, "Idiot! Not here, not in the middle of the hall for everyone to watch!" He pulled away from her and scorned, "Do you really want one of your parents wandering in to witness your debauchery yet again?"

He removed her arms from around his waist and glared into her cyan eyes, ignoring the amusement he could see in them. "Well? Are we going or not? Right now I want nothing more than to get this nightmare done and over with!"

"Yeah, we'll go," she tugged at the waistband of his pants, "Right after a round of interspecies genital stimulation."

Oh how she managed to embarrass him with her blunt and disgusting statements... He wished he could hide his shame with a palm against his forehead, or get even with her by feeling her up, but he was too enticed to move his arms.

"Bulma," he growled out under his breath.

"Quiet, you jerk. I'm just-"

"Bulma!"

She jerked her head up, "What now, you-"

She stopped her yapping when she saw Trunks in the middle of the hallway, watching his parents with a look of pure disgust on his face.

With an agitated growl Vegeta turned and headed out, leaving Bulma to contend with their son.

She laughed awkwardly, but she couldn't form any comprehensible words. Though this was not the first time Trunks had seen his parents engaged in such activity, she always went mute with embarrassment whenever they were caught, even if it was only heavy petting that had been involved.

The eleven year old merely rolled his eyes as he headed into his own bedroom. "Save it, mom. I don't care if you do that gross mushy-kissy stuff, but when you do that in the hallway for everyone to see, it's goddamn nasty."

Bulma was shocked. "Trunks! I didn't teach you to speak so crudely!"

The boy only smirked, looking exactly like his father, and just like him he issued a demand, "When you go, could you get me some candy while you're out? You know my favorites, Skittles, M&M's, those glow-in-the-dark sour thingies that burn your mouth, and pretty much everything else they have in the candy aisle at Wal-Mart. Thanks!" He disappeared into his room to play some violent video games before he could be reprimanded.

Bulma ground her teeth. Oh, she would buy the brat's candy, all right, because she loved to spoil her little boy. But she would be sure to punish him by putting a few clods of dirt, a handful of soil, and several wriggling worms in his candy bag that she would scoop up from the lawn after returning from her shopping trip. That was what she had done the year before, after the half-Saiyan boy had blasted a hole in her closet and destroyed her wardrobe. She often hoped that Trunks had inherited his father's fear of squirming things to use as a bargaining tool against her son.

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><p>Ten minutes later the bickering couple found themselves on a busy street, waiting for the cars ahead of them to pick up speed.<p>

"I don't know why you insist on taking this vehicle," Vegeta snarled, sitting pompously in the passenger seat and looking upon the bad traffic with disgust. "Why can't I just sling your frail body over my shoulder and fly there? With my speed, this whole worthless ordeal will take less than five minutes."

Bulma tried to ignore her grumpy passenger. "Yeah, I know you're an expert at getting things done in under five minutes," she snickered, "You proved that to me last night."

"You're the one who told me to make it quick so you could get back to your ineffectual conference call." He smirked and added, "If it had been up to me, I would have satisfied myself in thirty seconds."

The heiress took one hand off the steering wheel and lightly socked Vegeta on his shoulder, getting nothing out of him but a mocking chuckle.

He loved it when she got pissed at him and tried to have a go at him with her fists. He never felt her weak attacks, but he found her futile efforts to be adorable. And whenever she became a bit overzealous with her rage, it always put him in the mood for some rough copulating.

Bulma turned her attention away from him and back onto the road. Vegeta watched her out of the corner of his eye, hoping she would need to stop their car upon facing a red light at a busy intersection. He decided he'd take the opportunity to leave a few good bruises on her lip through a potent and forced kiss, no matter how much she would protest about having to walk around in public with bruises of passion on her mouth for everyone to see. It'd be apt to get them both riled up for the things he had in store for her later that night.

Up ahead by a few hundred feet he saw that there was an intersection, and the traffic light had just switched to yellow. He was considering leaning over and initiating the savage kiss, and possibly getting away with feeling her up a bit as well, when a small minivan sped out from the next lane over and cut them off, abruptly ending Vegeta's fantasizing.

Bulma cursed loudly and honked her car's horn. The driver ahead of them didn't seem to notice.

"Well. Would you look at that," Vegeta leered, "You wouldn't have to deal with such insubordination if we'd done this my way."

She yelled a series of profanities and rapidly honked the horn an additional twenty times, and Vegeta grit his teeth at the irritating sound.

"Just kill the man!" the royal suggested. Witnessing such bad driving reminded him of how much he hated humans.

"Son of a bitch!" Bulma yelled again when the driver in front of her suddenly slowed the vehicle below ten miles per hour. She rolled her window down and held her arm out, aiming a middle finger at the driver in front of her. "Yeah, that's right," she roared out her window, "Fuck YOU!"

Vegeta looked over at her, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. "You consistently reprimand little Trunks for using foul language and behaving uncouthly, but you're allowed to swear as much as you like. How hypocritical."

"Hey, I set a better example for our son than you, jerk," she shot back, "And it's not like I'm swearing in front of him. I only do it around you because you're not as impressionable."

"Of course not. I'm not going to pick up on your bad habits."

"Hm... And yet you're just as obsessed with 'copulating' or however you put it as I am. You got that from _me_. And you know, routinely slamming me twenty times a day is probably bad when you run the risk of being seen, in the kitchen and living room and the back AND front yard, and all around the house!"

"It's not my fault you can't wait for me to drag your impatient carcass over to the bed," he answered simply.

"But you seem perfectly fine with using the sofa," Bulma snickered, "And that's where you'll be sleeping tonight. Alone."

He frowned. "You'd better not even consider such a thing."

"We'll see how well you'll behave when I'm trying on panties in Victoria's Secret for a few hours. Will you be able to handle that?"

He grimaced and slumped deeper into his seat, glaring at the reckless driver in front of them. He was in a very bad mood now. He needed to see destruction.

The driver in front of them hit the brakes for no reason, making Bulma slam her foot down on the emergency brake pedal.

"Wretched bastard," Vegeta snarled under his breath, wishing he could bulldoze the minivan and toss its burned and crumpled metal frame into some ravine, not even leaving a trace of the human's charred remains.

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" Bulma hissed.

"You keep quiet!" he snapped back at her, "How can you tolerate this insolent behavior? That human has just shown you such unforgivable disrespect, and you let him live?" He glared at their car's dashboard, "Where's the switch that allows you to launch missiles at the vehicle in front of you? I know you have one."

Bulma brushed his hand away before he could press the button to activate the windshield wipers. "Hey, jerk! _You_ just gave me some disrespect by ordering me to be quiet!"

Vegeta didn't listen to her. He rolled his window down and leaned his upper torso out, raising an arm and charging a ball of energy at the driver in front of them as he shouted against the wind, "You have signed your life over to me, human!"

Bulma knew his threats were empty, most likely. Probably.

Still, she wasn't about to take any chances. She honked her car's horn repeatedly, knowing the sound ticked her husband off more than her voice did whenever she shrieked at him.

Vegeta winced and dispelled his ki, then slumped back in his seat. He shot Bulma a hideous scowl like that belonging to some sort of ferocious maimed beast, but he restrained himself from the urge to kill the terrible driver ahead of them.

Luckily for them, the driver changed lanes and made a U-turn. Bulma flipped him off again, trying not to bury her face in her other hand in disgust at the man's display of the flaws in the human gene pool. "Idiot! This whole time he wasn't even going in the right direction!"

Vegeta wished he could literally shoot daggers from his eyes, or laser beams, while he glared at the minivan as it drove away. The human had wasted at least ten minutes of his precious time, and had stopped him from leaving love bites on his wife. He would need to track the human down and give him a good beating... that is, if he wasn't too occupied with getting laid that evening.

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><p>After the bout of road rage, the couple arrived at the parking lot of West City's largest mall and headed inside the building.<p>

Vegeta despised the mall. He hated the smell and sight of stale popcorn and sugary snacks, the offensive stench of vaporized human sweat clinging to the walls of every store, the cheap clothes that had been tried on dozens of times and had the collective odor of multiple people on them, and the layers of vomit encrusted everywhere in the bathroom stalls.

It was a disgusting and disgraceful place for one of royalty to have to tread through. If there was any place that was worse than hell, he knew this was it. It took him a tremendous amount of dedication to his wife to allow her to bring him along.

Bulma walked ahead of him by a few feet, instinctively knowing where her destination resided. The agitated Saiyan followed her silently, scoping the area for threats and scaring people away with a frightening scowl.

The heiress headed directly for the hellish-looking area at the lower level of the mall where the Victoria's Secret was. At least to Vegeta it was hellish, for there was so much pink. He could spot the atrocious color from a mile away, and it always filled him with unease. The store seemed to be a blinding beacon dedicated to the color.

He stopped fifteen feet from the entrance, his arms folded across his chest. "I'll wait out here," he stated firmly.

"Oh no you won't. You're coming with me!" Bulma tugged at his shirt, but she couldn't get him to move.

"I don't recall promising word for word to step foot inside this 'Victoria's Secret' with you," he said, trying hard not to look at the hideous pink store. "I don't trust this establishment. Who is this 'Victoria', and why is the vile woman keeping a secret from her customers? I take it she's some conniving and manipulative harlot, inflating the prices of those flimsy, easy to shred undergarments she offers to you unsuspecting Earth women. You humans may fall for that trickery, but I refuse to be so naive."

"Vegeta," Bulma shook her head as she laughed at her stubborn companion's suspicions, "It's just a tacky little store." She cuffed his wrists in her hands and played with the sleeves of his shirt with her fingertips, gazing demurely at him, "C'mon, please go with me. I don't want to be in there all by myself…"

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, and she knew she was close to persuading him.

"And besides," she traced her hands over his arms and across his pecs, "I think I'll let you pick something extra kinky for me to wear to bed later tonight..."

He pretended to be dissuaded by her offer. "While that sounds tempting, I don't care at all about what sort of undergarments you buy. It won't matter when I'll just strip them off." He leaned closer to her and muttered, "You know I prefer to see you in nothing."

"And you know that if I go in there by myself, I'll spend ten times longer in there looking through everything."

"And if you aren't out here within twenty minutes, I'll just leave, and you will drive home all alone."

"Vegeta!" She stomped her foot down like an angry child, "Alright then. Get ready to sleep on the couch tonight!"

"Woman! You _said_-"

"I didn't say it word for word!" she laughed triumphantly.

"Fine!" He roared, marching into the store ahead of her. "Let's just get this over with! But for what I must endure in here, tonight I expect you to kneel for me!"

"Not if I'm the one on top!" she beamed.

He spewed more curses under his breath. He made a mental note that he would need to be extra dominant and ruthless later that night in order to pay her back for the agony he had to endure. Perhaps pinning her to the bed and not allowing her any free reign over him would suffice.

As soon as they set foot in the store Vegeta quickly looked around, searching for any suspicious persons or lechers, or any woman who looked like her name could be Victoria. Seeing no threats, he relaxed a bit.

He glanced at his surroundings, and his brow creased with the revulsion he felt. There were posters of half-naked women _everywhere_. What was this, a pornographic display? Plastic mannequins occupied every corner of the store, their stiff, lifeless limbs posed beckoningly, as if to say 'come hither' to the passing customers, and flimsy bargain sale bras served to cover their faux naughty bits.

"Bulma," Vegeta growled in her direction when she stopped to look at a corset nearby. "Make this quick. I am growing nauseous."

"Poor you." She proceeded to paw through a bunch of bras lined up on a row of hangers, not finding anything that she didn't already own. "To make up for it, how about I take you to a men's warehouse to get you a hot wetsuit, or some spandex?"

_You can 'make up for it' by letting me pound you under five hundred times gravity_, he thought, smiling maliciously.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," Bulma said, oblivious to her husband's dark fantasies, "I wonder if there's a Dollar Tree nearby where we can get you a cheap polyester speedo. I've always wanted to see you in one of those."

He was horrified. "You're utterly lacking in taste."

"Heh. Not if I'm going to 'taste' what's under that speedo," she winked.

He didn't really mind the prospect of that. "Don't expect me to return the favor."

"That's what you said last time, but you gladly worked your way between my legs when I called you _Prince_ Vegeta, and then-"

Her dirty talk was beginning to excite him, and he especially liked it whenever she called him 'Prince' in the bedroom, but now was not the time to be tempted. "Are you trying to coerce me into disrobing and ravishing your frail carcass in front of all these humans?"

"Oh? I didn't know you were into the whole exhibitionist thing."

"I'll do anything to silence your shrill voice," he cackled, "Shoving my royal cock in your mouth should do the trick."

"Ah. Planning to gag me with the 'Little Prince', are you?"

He scowled at her.

Moving along through the aisles, Bulma stopped and picked up a g-string with Hello Kitty's face on it. "Aw, isn't this cute?" she said delightedly and held it up for Vegeta to see.

He stared at it and wished for it to burn. He didn't understand why anyone would like that creepy cartoon feline's vacant, soulless expression. He harbored a tremendous hatred for Hello Kitty.

"You will never wear that around me," he declared as he watched his wife shove the undergarment in her cart.

Bulma then grabbed a brief with Betty Boop's deformed face on it. She pulled a face and tossed it back, at the same time musing, "I just remembered, I need to stop by Wal-Mart to get some Sesame Street Pampers for Trunks. I think he wanted the ones with Elmo all over them."

"Sesame Street? You'd better be joking. I won't have my son desecrated by wearing something so shameful! Especially a diaper with that cackling red Elmo demon stamped all over it!"

"But he likes that show!" Bulma said defensively, "And Little Bear, Power Rangers, Blue's Clues, Barney-" She stopped and openly laughed at the mortified expression on Vegeta's face.

She had only been lightly poking fun of their son by suggesting she get Elmo diapers for him, but though he was eleven now, the boy still had a major bed wetting problem. She and Vegeta frequently joked about it, finding it a very amusing topic in their conversations. Trunks was very good at keeping his composure, but his inability to control his bladder embarrassed him, especially whenever his parents laughed about it. And now Bulma made him wear diapers to bed, adding to his shame.

The pair continued on their shopping venture, while the prince tried to purge his thoughts of the Hello Kitty g-string he knew he'd eventually see Bulma in, and of course the knowledge of his son wearing a horrible Elmo diaper was something he would prefer not to dwell on. Distracted, Vegeta did not notice as his wife came across a sample bottle of perfume.

"Hold your arm out."

He was unable to react in time. The harpy pulled his hand close to her and spritzed some perfume onto his wrist. The smell instantly irritated his fine-tuned nasal passage and he sneezed.

"That was so cute!" Bulma gushed, and she quickly began shuffling around in her purse, "Hold on, let me get my phone out..."

"Blast you, you heathen!" Vegeta snarled and rubbed at his nose with his knuckles. "What for?"

"So I can record a video of you sneezing, silly. It's adorable." She retrieved her phone from the bottom of her purse, "Maybe I'll send it to Chi-Chi!"

He was mortified. He knew that if Chi-Chi received the video, there was a good chance she would show it to Goku. "If you do that-"

Too late. She sprayed him a few times with the perfume, at the same time holding her phone up and recording the entire assault. The cloud of perfume stung his nose, and he pinched his nostrils shut to save himself from suffering an agonizing fruity-scented death.

"Damned succubus!" he roared. He could taste the perfume on his tongue.

He snatched the phone out of Bulma's hand and crushed it with ease.

She saw that one coming a mile away- he had only destroyed about ten of her cellphones just this year. She laughed.

Vegeta stomped several feet away from her to evade the toxic smell. "Hurry and pick out your hideous clothes, then I'll crush you later!" The angrier she was making him, the more he wanted to quell his rage through the creative use of her body. This trip through hell couldn't be over sooner enough.

"Sorry," Bulma said half-heartedly, returning the perfume to its shelf and joining her husband at his side as he stalked away.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it, woman," Vegeta snarled, "Thanks to you I'm going to have to spend at least an hour purging this odor from my flesh. Spend that time considering how you're going to pay me back."

Bulma only rolled her eyes before continuing her quest through the store. She soon spotted the bra she was looking for, and she tossed three of the same type into her cart, knowing the likelihood that she would need a few to spare was high.

She then examined a set of large bras. Vegeta looked away and tapped his foot, growing very bored and thinking of what he should do to her later that night.

"Hey, look at this," Bulma broke him out of his thoughts. She was holding a triple E bra up over her chest, smiling knavishly, "How'd you like it if my boobs were this big? Imagine what it'd be like if I let you do a puff-puff!"

Damned woman, enticing him like this! He couldn't stand it any longer.

He didn't spare another moment to swat the enormous bra out of her grasp and reach for her chest with both hands. That seemed to silence her at last. He remarked with a chuckle, "Despite your inadequate size, I like the idea of not being smothered by your sagging flesh."

Bulma swallowed, her body instantly responding to his hands on her breasts. Yet she still had room to throw in a sassy quip. "Admit it, my boobs are perfect to you in every way." That fact was made obvious by his fingertips that were exploring her chest. Perhaps her relentless teasing had taken its toll; he didn't seem to care to wait anymore. And now she just as eagerly wanted her grumpy husband to drag her into one of the changing rooms for a public ravishing.

He noticed her agitation, and he drew his hands away from her, staring at her suspiciously. "What's eating you?" he asked her, but he already knew the answer he expected to hear from her. He grimaced, "No, don't tell me, let me guess. Me. Later tonight."

"Why save for tonight what we can do right now?" she said with a playful glint in her eyes.

"_Now_?" He should have known. "You have to be joking."

He knew she was serious. She bit her lip and held it in her mouth, tapping one foot.

He watched her as she nibbled on her bottom lip. He hated when she did that. Only because he wished he was the one biting her lip instead.

They had coupled in public several times before. It was nothing too out of the ordinary, nor was it routine in their sex life, and she was always considering it whenever they went out together. And they had never done it in a female-centric department store before. The times they had gotten it on in Wal-Mart, Sears, Best Buy and Kohl's didn't count.

"The changing rooms are only fifty feet away," Bulma informed him with a smile, noticing that he was deeply considering it.

"How long?" he interrogated at last.

"Depends on how quick you are with that mouth," the heiress snickered.

"Do you _have_ to say it like that?" he glanced around quickly, hoping nobody had overheard her lewd comment.

He turned his eyes back on his wife, observing her outfit. She was wearing a skirt. All he would have to do was force it up and yank her panties down. It would be easy to get away with quickly hooking up with her in the changing room, undetected by the other shoppers.

"Well?" Bulma folded her arms under her breasts, knowing that doing so made her cleavage look all the more impressive. "How long?"

Her tactic worked. He kept his eyes on her chest as he quietly muttered, "Alright, you wretched woman. Five minutes. But you'd better dish out your gratitude later, or I'll never do this for you again."

Bulma smiled eagerly, having won yet another battle.

The Saiyan was more irritated than aroused. But to silence his shrieking wife's libido he was willing to please her quickly and not get anything in return. At least not yet, not until they got home. Then he would make her repay his generosity.

There was a certain position he had in mind for once they got home, one that he'd wanted to try for some time, but it required a lot of tolerance and flexibility on Bulma's part. Now he would have a good reason to demand her to get into that position and endure it.

He made another once-over of the area, making sure no one would notice the two of them slip into one of the stalls in the changing room. To his relief, there were hardly any customers in the store. With a jerk of his head he motioned for Bulma to accompany him into the room. She very willingly skipped at his side, affectionately sliding her hand over his back.

Ten minutes later, a very satisfied Bulma strolled out of the changing room, a disgruntled Vegeta following close behind her. To his chagrin, the tryst had only made him impatient to go further. He knew they wouldn't be able to make it into their bedroom once they got home. Hell, they probably wouldn't even leave the parking lot and simply get it on as soon as they got inside the car.

"You owe me, woman," he muttered to her, kicking away a stray bra that some slob had taken off its hanger and carelessly tossed in the middle of the aisle for everyone to trample over.

"Of course. After what you just did, you can have me any way you like tonight. You deserve it," she gushed. She was clearly pleased with his work in the changing room.

He flexed his jaw, his mandible sore from the tiring effort of working to satiate such a demanding creature.

"I'm surprised. I didn't know you could do _that_," she sighed amorously, "That was great."

"I'm surprised that you managed to keep your mouth shut for once and not shriek loudly as you usually do, alerting everyone to what we were doing in there." He scoffed, "But I'll make you cry out in pain later tonight."

"You always know how to remind me of how much I love you. Although through brute physical force."

"Save such talk for the bedroom," he smirked, "Although it might be difficult for you to talk with your mouth full."

She aimed a punch at him, but he caught her arm with his hands and spun her around, pulling her back against his chest and muttering into her ear, "Hurry up and collect your filthy harlot undergarments. I'm growing impatient. I might just force you on your knees now." He lightly swept his unparted lips over the back of her neck, making her shiver and leaving her desiring more of his touch.

"I thought you didn't like public displays of affection," she said in a quick breath, then she stifled a laugh, "Uh oh. Don't look now, but it seems we're being watched."

He frowned, realizing that his actions had not gone unnoticed. A woman and her small daughter were staring at them from ten feet away.

He snarled at them, succeeding in scaring them off.

"Hoping for a free show, were they?" Bulma laughed boisterously.

"Disgusting. Don't they have anything better to do?"

"I wasn't being serious."

"Then why were their lustful eyes pried onto us? How can they get off on watching something like_ this_?" He grazed her inner thigh with his fingers, making her squirm. "You humans are so lecherous."

"They were watching because they like..." her hands wound up on his ass, "Your butt. They were staring at it the whole time... I don't blame them."

He was going to rip her clothes off if she continued throwing cheap flattery his way.

He pulled her along with him behind a row of clothes, before biting into the soft flesh of her shoulder, making her squirm. "Do I have to drag you back into that changing room and force you to get on your hands and knees?"

"Can you even last that long? Or will you grow so desperate for relief that you'll devour me right here?"

"_I'm_ not going to devour _you_," he scraped his teeth across her neck, muttering darkly against her throat, "Not when I'm going to stuff that loud mouth of yours with my-"

He stopped when he saw a little girl peering through the rack of clothes they were hiding behind, the same girl who had been watching them just thirty seconds earlier. A dozen feet away, the girl's red-faced mother hissed, "Get back over here!"

Vegeta grimaced so frighteningly that the girl almost fainted, but Bulma pushed him off of her. "Sorry, sweetie. This scary man couldn't keep his hands off me!"

_Say anything more in front of this human and I'll expect you to fellate me a dozen times tonight_, Vegeta thought irritably, hatefully watching the terrified and sobbing little girl flounce away.

He was beginning to get a throbbing headache from the troublesome ordeal he was going through. And he was sure that he would get a throbbing erection if Bulma didn't satisfy him soon.

"You're going to blow me tonight," he growled as the two of them left their hiding spot. "Don't even try to get out of it."

"I do owe you," she laughed, adding teasingly, "But can you even hold out 'till then?"

"Do you want me to shove the entirety of my 'Little Prince' in your face right now?"

Before she could respond, Vegeta's head snapped up, and instantly a disgusted look clouded his features. "That freak is in here."

"What freak? Goku?"

"That turtle hermit bastard."

"Oh. Ugh." The heiress looked around, "Wait, here? In _this_ store? Why am I not surprised..."

Vegeta sighed through his nose. With his thumb pointing over his shoulder, he motioned to an area behind him. Bulma peeked over several dozen feet away. Standing in front of a pile of briefs, with blood dripping from his nose, was the pervert.

"Is this what he does in his free time?" Bulma frowned, "And how often does he come here?" She didn't really want to know the answer to that, but if she ever wanted to come to Victoria's Secret again, she would need to know so as to avoid being sexually harassed.

The couple watched the old man pawing through panties, picking up a few of them that had caught his eye and sniffing them, sometimes wiping them across his beard. Bulma pulled a face, and she warily looked down at the bras and panties in her cart.

"He hasn't touched those," Vegeta assured her. He didn't smell the stench of lechery on the undergarments Bulma had picked out, so they were safe for her to purchase.

"Hm. Good. Otherwise I'd throw these in the garbage, and we'd have to go to the Victoria's Secret in the next city."

"_You_ would have to go, by yourself. I'm never setting foot into one of these pink torture chambers again."

"What do you say we get out of here?" Bulma suggested, "The sooner the better. You want to force me onto my knees when we get home, don't you?"

"Hn."

"I'll get Trunks' Pampers and his candy tomorrow and we'll just call it a night. I think your idea of payback is going to take us a few hours, so we'd better get started A.S.A.P.," she winked. She didn't tell him that _she_ was the one who really wanted to get home as soon as possible. With every passing second, her libido escalated.

After paying for the undergarments the two exited the mall and headed across the parking lot. Bulma walked ahead of him, and Vegeta kept his eyes on her legs as they approached the car, imagining how he would spread them and force her to hook them around his waist.

He knew he couldn't last another second.

As she stuffed the last of her bags into the trunk and closed the lid, she was spun around and her back was forced against the car. A small squeak of surprise sounded from her mouth, but she was quickly silenced when her prince crushed his lips against hers.

"Vegeta!" She pulled away from him for a second to glare into his eyes, but that didn't stop him from diving back in and biting her lip hard.

After several minutes of indulging in his forceful kisses, she put her hand over his mouth and pushed his face away from her, breathlessly reprimanding him, "As nice as this is, can you wait until we get home?"

"Can't you wait until we get home before you unleash your shrieking?" he growled and maneuvered his hands around her chest. She had no idea how long he'd wanted to do this, and he wasn't about to stop.

He worked his hands around her entire body, ruthlessly prodding at every vulnerable part of her. He sank his teeth into her bottom lip again and sucked hard, overlooking her muffled protests.

He pulled away and examined the mark he'd left on her lip. It was an especially decent bruise. He thought it made her mouth look much prettier.

Bulma was panting lightly. She ran her tongue over her wounded lip, scolding, "How many times have I told you not to do that? You brute."

"Be thankful that I didn't draw blood this time," Vegeta responded, not taking his eyes from her swollen lip. Seeing the fruit of his passion aroused him immensely.

He no longer cared if there were witnesses. He only sensed about five people in the parking lot, but they were not nearby. The sun was descending close to the horizon, and it would be dark within minutes. He reasoned they could get away with it.

Tuning out the ki of the other humans, he focused his attention on her completely, smiling viciously and narrowing his eyes a little. Bulma recognized that look on his face, and she gulped.

"Hey!" she protested when he pulled her shirt up with one hand. But before he could force it over her head, he halted and grimaced. Every inch of her bra was covered with little pink hearts.

With a wicked grin, he hooked his fingers around the back of her bra. "You're aware of how much I detest this color."

"What are you going to do about it?" Bulma challenged.

"Get in the car. The back seat, on your knees."

"You first, right here on the ground, on your knees, begging for it! Then I _might_ say yes."

"Oh?" He unhooked her bra, and then his fingers ascended to the straps on her shoulders. "And I might have to rip this thing apart, just like the last one."

"Try me, and we'll have to come here again for a replacement."

He silenced her when he hiked her skirt up, lightly caressing her inner thigh with his fingers. He would never go to Victoria's Secret again, and he would be sure to pound that into her memory.

She had to stifle a moan by biting down on her lip, which only made her bruise hurt more. But Vegeta could hear the sound of her anticipation resonating in her throat. He liked hearing her moan, and it dumbfounded him as to why she would want to mask the sound.

"Open your mouth when you do that," he ordered her.

"So you can shove 'Little Vegeta' down my throat?" she said teasingly, but she quietly added, "If you move your hand a little higher, I might…"

He didn't. He kept his fingers where they were, but he squeezed her skin just enough to make her whimper.

"You first, woman."

"No," she said stubbornly.

"It's your call. Do you want me to shove my hand into your womb, or leave you to do that on your own?"

"In my _womb_?" she asked incredulously.

Leering at her, he moved his fingers up by only a few centimeters. She kept her mouth closed, but she whined through her nose. Not what he'd been hoping for, but it was good enough.

Immediately he pulled his fingers away from her thigh, forcing both hands under her shirt. He ripped her bra apart and pulled it off.

"Hey!" she hollered.

Vegeta opened the door to the back seat and held it open for her, with his other hand tossing the remains of the bra into the car. "Get in," he ordered.

She scowled at him, her bare chest heaving. "I guess I owe you," she sighed and rolled her eyes, feigning irritability, though in truth he'd gotten her worked up for another round. She wasn't the only one who couldn't wait until they got home.

Vegeta smirked. He loved the taste of victory.

* * *

><p>Somehow sensing the vibes of a partially unclothed woman nearby, Roshi sprinted across the parking lot, the weight of his ancient body carried by his arthritis-ridden legs. He could hear a clicking sound coming from his rickety and worn kneecaps, but that did not make him slow down.<p>

Then he saw her, his target. She was in a vulnerable position, on her hands and knees and crawling into her car. Her husband was leaning on the door, his eyes focused on her ass.

Oh how long it had been since he'd last touched a woman (only a few hours ago, and without permission, of course)! His legs gained momentum, picking up speed, although in turn that increased the severe pain of his arthritis. But with the pain he was basked in a feeling of pleasure.

Once he closed in on her, he pretended to trip, and he went flying across the parking lot. He regained his balance by using her body as leverage, his hands clenching her buttocks. Bulma yelped.

The elder cackled like a deranged hyena, "Well hello there! Fancy seeing you!" He gave her ass another squeeze with his wrinkled fingers, "This sure brings back memories!"

Feeling her blood pressure rising, Bulma struck his bald head with an open palm. Roshi recoiled and collapsed onto the pavement.

Never in his life had Vegeta been so close to sweet relief when he was interrupted by such unacceptable and inexcusable behavior. But above having his own quest to satisfy his desire hindered, the old man had touched his woman.

That signaled the execution.

Several months later, after waiting for the Dragon Balls to recharge, Master Roshi was brought back to life.


End file.
